


Outrun VS Doctor Mantis

by J_A_Phillips



Series: J.A. Phillips' Starverse [10]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Little Person, Mad Scientists, Original Character(s), Original Superhero - Freeform, Peril, chase sequence, scientist, speedster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 23:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_A_Phillips/pseuds/J_A_Phillips
Summary: When a college reunion leads to Stanley meeting a dear old friend, Deanna, it seems like what could be the start of a fantastic evening. Unfortunately, a series of events unwind that turn the night into a deadly chase, and if Stan and Deanna don't think fast, someone could die.
Series: J.A. Phillips' Starverse [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/767064
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Stanley Davidson groaned a little as he adjusted his bow tie in the lobby. Having been in a rush to get to the science convention, he'd almost cut off the circulation in his neck from how tightly he'd tied the bow. Once he was satisfied, he then looked down and started smoothing down his blue tuxedo. Ordinarily, he avoided attending gatherings where he was expected to dress up like this. It just wasn't something he generally liked doing. However, considering that this was also a gathering of most of the people he went to college with, he just couldn't pass it up.

Entering the main hall, Stan smiled at his fellow colleagues and old friends waving hello to him. He hadn't seen several of these people in years. Between their respective work and projects, including his rather private work, there just wasn't a lot of time to get caught up. Still, it wasn't that he didn't want to. He very much wanted to catch up with some of his college friends, including...

"Stanley!" a familiar voice called out, causing him to grin ear-to-ear. Looking up ahead, he caught a glimpse of someone he hadn't seen since graduation: Deanna Malcolm, a beautiful, 4'6" redhead in a stunning black dress. One of his closest friends in college, and someone he'd been wanting to meet up again with for a long time. She was standing next to a blond man in a black tuxedo, who likewise had a smile of recognition at the sight of Stanley.

"So good to see you, Deanna!" Davidson declared as the two closed the distance between them, the brown-haired Aussie kneeling just enough to pull Deanna in for a hug. "How have you been?"

"I've been fantastic!" Deanna replied, patting Stanley's back as her blond friend walked up. "And you remember-"

"Hubert Manning," Stanley greeted, letting go of Deanna so he could stand back up straight and shake the man's hand. "Been a long time."

"The last time I saw you, you were working on some sort of teleportation device for emergency rescue crews," Hubert recalled. "How goes your current work?"

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Eh, it goes slowly, but it goes nonetheless."

"Well, truth be told, I'm actually here to speak with Professor Pressman about an invention of my own," Manning responded. "Needs a little extra funding, is all."

"HARRIET Pressman?" Stanley demanded, his jaw dropping at Hubert and Deanna's nodding. "Bloody hell, must be something AMAZING, then."

Deanna giggled a little at Stanley's momentary return to his Australian mannerisms. "It REALLY is. With any luck, it'll cut time for rescue crews to get to civilians buried in collapsed buildings or the like in half."

"Oh, now you're just trying to make me jealous," Stan joked, earning a playful shove from his old friend.

"Well, anyway, I was just on my way to speak to her," Hubert pointed out before looking at Deanna. "If you'd rather get caught up with Davidson, I can handle Pressman, and we'll celebrate back at the lab later?"

"Sounds great," Deanna agreed. "I'll bring the champagne."

Manning grinned, giving a nod to Stanley before taking his leave. Once he was out of earshot, Stan knelt down and muttered under his breath, "...Sooo, you and Manning, huh?"

Deanna rolled her eyes. "We're just colleagues, Stanley. Honestly, though, most of the work has been all him. I'm just helping out with what expertise I have."

"So, mind if I ask what exactly the two of you are building?" Stanley asked as he quickly grabbed a pair of glasses of water from a nearby table. "As I recall, you were mostly specializing in robotics back in college."

"I CAN tell you that they're specialized mechanical arms strapped to the back and designed to help firemen and rescue teams dig through debris," Deanna answered, climbing up into a chair as she and Stanley sat at a small table. "We've even got a little place on the west side set up for early testing."

"Well, Hubert couldn't have picked a better partner to build something like that with," Stanley complimented, lowering his glass for Deanna to tap the edge of hers against.

"This is more than a little silly to do with glasses of water, y'know," Deanna pointed out.

"Felt like I should start us off with water, since you've got champagne plans with your 'close, personal colleague' later," Stan teased.

"Why is it, every time we get a chance to meet up, you always have to dig into my love life?" Deanna inquired, eyebrow cocked.

Davidson shrugged, smirking. "I guess because it's a more involved conversation than talking about mine, since it's non-existent."

"STILL?" Deanna demanded, almost choking on her water. "Honestly, Stanley, you NEED to consider meeting new people, starting new relationships. Being by yourself all this time can't be good for you."

"And yet you claim to still be single?" Stanley countered.

Deanna sighed, looking away. "That's different. It's just that, when you're...like me, some people..."

"...Don't know what they're missing," Stan finished, causing the redhead to blush terribly. "It's wonderful to see you again, Deanna."

Deanna smiled practically ear-to-ear. "It's wonderful to see you too, Stanley."

* * *

Hubert breathed in deeply through his nose before entering the room where Harriet Pressman was waiting for him. The 40-something-year-old scientist-turned-businesswoman was sitting at a round table, along with two members of her board of directors. Manning was a bit surprised by this, having only expected Pressman, but took a seat across from her, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, despite being in the presence of one of the most respected individuals in his field.

"Thank you for being so prompt, Professor Manning," Harriet greeted with a smile, albeit a somewhat nervous-looking one.

"Well, I know you're a very busy woman, so best not waste any of your time," Hubert explained, bowing his head a little in respect.

Pressman inhaled a bit, still looking not quite at ease, but continued on. "...Professor, I asked members of my board to be here because...well, there's a bit of concern regarding some of the aspects of your suit's design."

Hubert tilted his head, a bit perplexed. "...Concerns? What, um, what kind of concerns?"

One of the board members, a balding man with thick glasses with a name-tag that read 'Collins', cleared his throat as he opened a file folder, revealing images of Hubert's invention. "This suit that you've designed for aiding in the rescue of civilians trapped underneath debris. We've found that some aspects of it seem a bit unnecessary, and more than a little...well, frightening, to be honest."

"F-Frightening?" Manning stammered, not understanding.

"Well, these large scythe-blades, for example," another board member, an elderly black woman whose name-tag read 'Land', pointed out.

"The blades are key to the design, though," Hubert explained. "They're what allows the wearer of the suit to cut through debris to reach civilians-"

"And what happens if one of those civilians gets too close when the blades are hacking through?" Collins asked. "I mean, the size of them makes them more than a bit-"

"Sir, I can promise you, the suit's helmet is designed to detect heat signatures from trapped individuals," Manning interjected. "And the blades have different lengths they can be extended to."

"And the additional blades?" Land inquired. "The ones designed to operate like giant scissors, and can be launched as projectiles from the arms?"

"Those are specifically meant to deal with falling debris before it can become a problem," Hubert insisted. "Which is detected by the suit's helmet-"

"Regarding that helmet," Pressman said with a sigh, looking more than a bit concerned. "You are aware that it can look a bit...scary, right?"

Hearing this, Manning was a bit taken aback. "I...I don't see how."

"The giant green glowing eyes?" Land asked, her tone reflecting her disbelief. "The sculpted mandibles? Add those to the massive scythe-blades, and most people are going to think the rescuer looks like a giant mantis."

"The suit was designed with a mantis in mind," Hubert explained, getting a little huffy at having to defend himself and his design. "A giant metal mantis that can cut through-"

"Look, we understand that, Professor," Collins attempted to make clear, "really, we do. We're just concerned that anyone trapped in a collapsed building, suffering trauma from the ordeal, stuck in the dark and possibly smoke and fire, is then going to see someone walk in with that suit on and think they're some kind of monster."

Manning felt his face warm up and his heartbeat accelerate a little at those words. It took everything he had not to pound a fist down into the table as he leaned forward and asked "...Excuse you? You...I build this suit for the purpose of saving lives, and now you have the audacity to claim it looks like a MONSTER?!"

"Professor Manning, please!" Harriet interrupted, holding up a hand. "...We're not trying to dissuade you or the like. We're simply suggesting that perhaps certain elements of your invention could use a redesign. We'd be happy to work with you on the matter-"

"I think I've heard about enough," Hubert growled, standing up and taking his leave. "Good day, Professor..."

With that, Manning slammed the door to the room shut and stormed out toward the main hall, where most people were still enjoying the convention. Everywhere he looked, though, he became more enraged, whether he saw scientists who managed to show off their inventions exactly as they dreamed, or ones who had clearly reworked them to fit the vision of those they'd sold out to. He grit his teeth so hard that he felt his gums start to bleed. All he wanted to do was find Deanna and leave.

As he found his way to his colleague, however, Hubert saw her and Stanley conversing happily, laughing together, giving each other sly looks. His rage only grew at the sight of them so clearly flirting, so obviously engaging in verbally courting one another, that it sickened him. At this point, Davidson may as well have just made merry with Malcolm right there on their table.

Unfortunately, neither one saw Hubert. At least, not until he was stomping his way to the front doors of the convention center. It was just as he passed through the doors that Deanna let out a "Hubert?!", trying to get his attention, only for him to actively ignore her call. She and Stanley both headed off to try and catch him, but unfortunately, neither seemed able as, by the time they reached the doors, he was already getting into a cab and taking off.

"The hell was THAT about?" Davidson asked, baffled.

"I dunno, but something seemed VERY wrong with him," Deanna replied. "I think the meeting might've gone south."

"Oh boy," Stanley muttered, combing his fingers through his hair. "I think we should probably go talk to him."

"No, I don't wanna crowd him," Deanna retorted, rubbing an arm. "It might be better if I talked to him myself."

Stanley nodded, understand. "Of course...but, I don't really feel right letting you take a cab back to your lab by yourself. Could I at least offer you a ride?"

Deanna gave a slight, half-hearted smile. "I suppose I can't turn down such a gentlemanly offer."

Davidson chuckled, leading his old friend to the parking lot. Eventually, the two came upon his car, got in, and headed off, Deanna offering instructions on how to get to where her and Hubert's lab was. The whole way, though, Deanna kept shifting uncomfortably in her seat, looking more and more nervous as they got closer to their destination, which didn't go unnoticed by Stanley.

"...You sure you wanna do this alone?" Stanley asked.

Deanna sighed, calming herself a bit. "I think it's important that I do. I don't want him to feel like we're ganging up on him. Hubert...can be sensitive."

"Yeah, I remember back in college when he could get riled up pretty easily by someone saying the wrong thing," Davidson recalled, his eyes widening a little. "You're thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That someone in the meeting said something to set him off?" Malcolm asked, getting a quick nod. "I hope not, but...but if you asked me the most statistically possible reason for his behaviour-"

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you," Stan remarked with a grin as he pulled up in front of a warehouse on the west side of the city. "Anyway, you just be careful, okay? If you need anything-"

"I'll call," Deanna replied. "Don't worry."

Stanley cocked his head slightly, confused. "...Wait, how are you gonna call me? I never gave you my-"

"You're still using your old cell phone," Deanna interjected with a grin, knowing she was right by the tiny blush forming on Stan's cheeks. "You always were kind of a pack rat."

Stan chuckled, leaning in for a quick hug. "Sorry this wasn't the ideal reunion."

"Well, we've got time to fix that later," Malcolm insisted before exiting the car. "Bye, you."

"Take care!" Stanley called as he watched the small redhead jog over to the entrance to the building. Once she was out of sight, he pulled away, heading back toward his lab at Golden Rock University. He'd been nervous to let Deanna deal with Manning by herself, but hearing her speak with such determination and wisdom reassured him that she'd be just fine alone.

At least, he hoped so...

* * *

"...Hubert?" Deanna called as she walked through the dimly lit halls of the warehouse. "Are you here?"

Listening carefully, Deanna could barely make out a sort of whirring sound coming from the pair's lab deeper inside the warehouse. Sure enough, as she came closer to it, she could see light peering through the ajar door into the hallway. She was sure Hubert was inside, possibly tinkering with something. That would be a good reason why he wasn't responding: That her voice just wasn't registering over his work. The other option was that he was actively ignoring her.

"...Hubert?" Malcolm repeated as she slowly entered the room. Looking ahead at one of their tables, she saw him huddled over it, most of his body covered in shadow. "Are you alright?"

"...'A monster'," Manning muttered, gripping the side of the table tightly in both hands. "That's what that slime at the meeting said my suit looked like. What anyone who wore it would look like."

Deanna's heart sank. Never before had she wanted to be wrong so badly, but she knew the whole drive there that she wasn't. Someone had said the wrong thing to Hubert and set him off. She'd seen it many times in the years they'd known each other, and every time, it was a challenge to bring him back down to Earth. Still, she felt capable of dealing with this challenge.

"...Hubert, whatever they said-" Deanna started to say, before something stretched up and over her friend and colleague's body. Despite the light not being aimed at him, tiny shimmers of it reflected off of the pair of objects, and she could just make out what they were: The scythes from the suit. Before she could question him further, he brought both scythes down hard through the table, cleaving it in half and eliciting a short, small scream from her. Hubert then turned around, revealing he was wearing the silver and green suit, sans the helmet that Pressman had called scary-looking.

"Tell me, Deanna, do I look like a monster to you?" Hubert asked coldly.

"Hubert, listen to me," Deanna said, trying to maintain a bold-yet-caring stance and attitude despite the fear creeping into her mind. "Whatever they said to you in that meeting, you can't let that affect you like this. Let's just get you out of that suit and talk about this."

"I thought you'd rather talk to HIM," Manning replied, stabbing one of the massive scythes down into the floor, shocking Deanna into falling back onto her butt. "I saw the way you were chatting it up back at the convention center, and how 'chummy' you were when he drove you here."

"How did you know he-" Malcolm started to ask before something caught her eye: One of the small televisions in the corner of the room. Usually, they were turned off. This one was on, and broadcasting footage of the front of the building. "...You put up security cameras throughout the building? That wasn't in the agreement, Hubert! If they find out, we could lose everything-"

"YOU could lose everything!" Hubert shouted, yanking the scythe from the ground. "I already have! No one will ever want my TRUE vision of scientific ingenuity! And the one person I thought would want my heart wants a failure as her new booty call!"

Deanna crawled back a bit, watching in horror as Hubert reached over for his helmet. "Hubert, I...Stanley and I aren't like that! And...you never said that you thought of me like-"

"Never thought I had to," Manning explained, holding his helmet in both hands. "...But I understand now. If you want people to understand you, you can't just assume they will. You need to make your intentions clear and precise."

With that, Hubert lifted his helmet up over his head before clamping it down over it. Deanna felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an 18-wheeler as the eyes of the helmet lit up, a pair of bright, menacing green lights fixed on her. Hubert held up a hand, the arm blades widening apart before scissoring across each other as he calmly declared, "...Which is why I'm going to clearly and precisely turn you into ribbons and mail you back to your man-whore."

Deanna screamed as she rolled away just in time to avoid a giant scythe hacking down through the floor where she'd just been sitting. Scrambling back to her feet, she ran out of the room and bolted down the hallway, only for her horror to grow at the sight of the emergency steel shutter having closed over the main exit to the warehouse. Looking around, she saw other shutters locking themselves over the windows. She screamed again as she heard Manning cut apart the wall around the door to their lab, and ran for the nearby staircase.

 _Goddammit, why didn't I listen to Stanley?!_ Deanna cursed herself as she bolted up the stairs. Once she made it to the top floor, though, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cellphone, bringing up her favourites list. _Please, oh please, be the pack rat I think you are and be carrying that old thing with you!_

* * *

Stanley let out a small sigh as he closed the door to his lab behind him. He found his overall feelings about the night to be a bit conflicting, but found that, most of all, he was grateful to see Deanna again. It was a meeting he'd been wanting to have for a while. Still, he couldn't get over how it wasn't quite how he envisioned it, and hoped she was right that they would have a chance to make up for that. In fact, he was just thinking that when he felt his cellphone buzz in his pocket.

"...Hello?" he asked as he opened the old flip-phone and answered it.

"Stanley, help!" he heard Deanna cry, his blood turning cold. "It's Hubert! He's lost it! He has the suit on, and-Oh God!"

"Deanna?!" Stan yelled as he heard something crash hard in the background. "What's happening?!"

"Stanley, please HELP ME!" Deanna begged before the call ended.

Davidson very nearly dropped the phone in shock as the call ended so abruptly. His mind was awash with questions, but they were quickly drowned out by one fact: His friend was in some sort of danger and needed him. Without even thinking twice, he pulled out a remote from his other pocket and pressed it, causing the steel cabinet containing his suit to slide open. In mere seconds, he was stripped down to his boxers, and seconds later, he had the suit on, quicker than he'd ever changed before. As it powered up, his belt creating a bio-electrical field around him, he pressed the button to open the door to his lab, and very nearly blew it off its hinges as he ran out faster than he'd ever recorded himself being capable of in the suit, not that that registered to him. Only one thought was on his mind as he raced through the streets.

"DEANNA!" Outrun screamed, blasting through the sound barrier as he rushed back toward the warehouse.

* * *

Deanna crawled away from the shattered fragments of her cellphone, clutching her bleeding left hand in her right as it held a piece of her ruined phone. Looming over her like death itself was Hubert, his eyes transfixed on one of his scythe blades now dripping in some of her blood. He suddenly felt as though he wanted to see more of it, and raised both blades up. However, what he didn't realize was that Deanna wasn't merely crawling away from him. She'd been crawling towards a nearby fire extinguisher, which she sprayed up into the eyes of his helmet.

As Malcolm had hoped, the fire extinguisher being shot in the helmet's eyes momentarily disoriented Manning, giving her a chance to flee the room they'd both been occupying. Unfortunately, having helped build it, she knew it wasn't likely to keep him blinded for long, what with the helmet being designed to help the wearer see through thick, dark clouds of smoke, and through fallen debris from buildings. She'd need to do more to keep one step ahead of her pursuer.

 _Why didn't you call the police?!_ the short redhead asked herself as she tore a strip from her dress and wrapped it around her hand, covering the wound on the back. Indeed, she wasn't sure, looking back on it in hindsight, why she'd called Stanley and not the police. Still, she trusted her friend to send some kind of help, though she hoped he wasn't coming alone. In the meantime, though, she'd need to hide out 'til help arrived.

Looking around, Deanna saw that the windows on this floor didn't have any shutters, likely because the building didn't have a fire escape, meaning no one could get in or out through them. She considered what she had available to her, and the limitations of the thermal vision granted by Hubert's helmet. There were plenty of glass windows that could help conceal her heat, but only if she stayed behind them and didn't move. And she saw a few blankets around, probably left by squatters who hid out in the warehouse before they were allowed to use it. Considering both, an idea started to form in her mind.

Meanwhile, a few rooms down from where she was, Manning and his suit's systems were both recovering from the extinguisher being shot in the eyes of his helmet. Glancing around, he couldn't spot Deanna's heat signature in the nearby vicinity, so he switched to conventional viewers. Pretty soon, he managed to see a trail of drops of blood running down the hall. Following it as quietly as his suit allowed, he eventually came to a room near the end of the hall. Off to one corner, he spotted a window pane that had been removed and sat in front of some blankets that were bundled up together in a large ball.

 _Nice try, Deanna,_ Hubert thought, raising a scythe high into the air and then bringing it down, through the glass pane, and through the blankets...and into the battery of Deanna's broken phone. Within seconds, it burst into flames, setting the blankets and wooden floorboards ablaze and scorching part of the side of the scythe blade before it could be pulled out.

"Dammit!" Manning cursed, grabbing another blanket and smothering the fire. Deciding to trust sound as opposed to sight, he switched on the speakers for his helmet to get a better take on all the sounds occurring within the building. Soon enough, he heard the sound of someone running down a flight of stairs, back toward his lab, and realized what it meant: Deanna was headed to the controls he'd set up for the steel shutter blocking the exit.

Sure enough, back on the bottom floor, Deanna was making a mad dash for the lab, a blanket wrapped around her like a cloak. Once inside, she let the blanket fall to the floor. Looking around, she quickly spotted a lever that she guessed was the control for the steel door. Unfortunately, it was too high for her to reach. Luckily, when Hubert had split the table earlier, it had broken down in the middle in a way that half of it was now pointed diagonally upwards, towards the lever. Gulping hard, she carefully walked up it, and just as it started to collapse under her weight, she jumped off and grabbed the lever, pulling it down. She then heard the sound of the shutters opening, and rushed back out into the hall...just in time to see Manning standing in her way.

"You always were the smart one, Deanna," Hubert admitted, holding up one of his arm blades. "You just weren't fast enough to keep up with the competition."

Almost immediately after saying those words, however, Hubert was alerted by his helmet to an object approaching rapidly from behind. It didn't seem possible to him, but something was traveling along the ground at Mach 1.5. Spinning around, expecting some sort of rocket or the like, he instead just barely managed to see the stream of blue and gold rushing toward him before it tackled him clear over Deanna's head to the other side of the hallway. As the dust settled, Deanna found herself face-to-face with the one who saved her: The fastest person on the planet, Outrun.

"Are you alright?" the Blue and Gold Blur asked of the redheaded scientist.

Deanna was a bit stunned, but managed to stammer, "I-I'm alright. How did you...?"

Before Deanna could inquire further, the two heard the sound of Manning starting to drag himself back up. Outrun quickly ran a scan of him with his visor. Almost immediately, he could spot telltale signs of his equipment being put together by Deanna and Hubert. He recognized their handiwork as having used techniques they'd honed together in college. Adding on the figure's approximate height and weight being a match for Hubert's, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who this was.

"...Professor Manning?" Outrun demanded, horrified. "You...why?"

"I'm tired...of living in a world...that expects me to conform to exactly what it wants!" Hubert growled as he got up to his hands and knees.

"She's your colleague, your friend!" the Gold and Blue Breeze insisted.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Manning argued, planting a foot down on the floor.

"I know you have people who care about you," Outrun remarked, slowly walking around Deanna and extending a hand to Manning. "And I know you don't want to hurt them anymore than they want you to hurt yourself. Now let's get you some help."

"NO!" Hubert roared, launching an arm blade at the hero.

Seeing the insanely-sharp arm blade sailing toward him, Outrun immediately turned around, grabbed Deanna, and rushed into the next room. However, while he was faster than the blade, he wasn't quite fast enough. To his shock, it managed to pierce his suit's bio-electric field and caught him across the arm as he fled the hall. As he ducked under a desk with Malcolm, he looked at the cut across his suit, blood running from his new wound.

"...Bloody hell!" the speedster observed in a hushed tone, both horrified and impressed. "What are those blades made out of?"

"A very rare metal, stronger than titanium," Deanna explained. "But there's a trade-off: It's also heavier. I noticed during testing that the suit needed to have maintenance performed at least twice a day while it remained in regular use, because some of the joints would start to come loose due to-"

"Constant friction against the blades," Outrun finished, smirking as he got an idea. "Deanna, stay here."

The short redhead blinked in surprise at the sound of her own name, but did as told. Outrun, in the meanwhile, got back to his feet and rushed toward the door to the hall, just as Manning was approaching it. The two tumbled into another room, over a table, and crashed to the floor. Both men got back to their feet quickly, though, with Hubert raising both scythes for attack. Outrun, however, grabbed ahold of both dials on his belt and turned them up, charging his field as much as he could. However, his plan wasn't to run. Instead, as Manning hacked both scythe-blades down, the Blue and Gold Blur actually caught them in his hands, which were protected by the energy of his suit.

"Stop this, Manning!" Outrun pleaded, gritting his teeth as he dug his feet into the floor. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Professor Manning is DEAD!" Hubert insisted, putting more power into the scythe arms. "The world wanted a monster, and now they have one! I am...DOCTOR MANTIS!"

Seeing no other option left, Outrun slowly took in a breath. As he did, he let his hands rapidly move up and down the blades he was gripping. Within moments, they were little more than a blur. At first, Mantis couldn't understand why he was doing this. However, an alert in his helmet quickly made him realize it: He was putting more friction and pressure on the joints of the arms, causing them to begin to loosen and come apart.

Doctor Mantis tried to pull the blades free from Outrun's hands, but he couldn't. Instead, he aimed his remaining arm blade at the lightning bolt on the chest of the Gold and Blue Breeze's suit and stabbed it forward, trying desperately to pierce the field. The two let out yells as they tried to overcome each other's tech, the floorboards starting to break under the weight of both of them exerting all they had. Finally, seeing the field about to fail, Stanley leaped up and over Hubert, causing him to fall forward, and wrenched the scythe arms free from the suit.

"You...YOU DESTROYED MY INVENTION!" Manning roared, spinning around and launching his arm blade at Outrun. With mere fractions of seconds to work with, the Blue and Gold Blur slid on his knees, ducking under the blade as it flew through the air, taking a piece of his headset's visor with it. He came to a stop directly in front of Doctor Mantis, who barely had time to react before his foe sprung upward and caught him across the jaw with a punch, knocking his helmet clean off and sending him crashing down onto his back on the floor.

Outrun stood over the fallen Doctor Mantis, panting hard. He'd never pushed his field so hard before, and it had taken quite a toll on him. As he sought to catch his breath, though, he looked down on the man laid out before him. With his helmet off, the face of his old friend was now on full display. Adrenaline finally began to wear off, and the truth of what had just happened hit him: He'd once again been forced to use force to stop a friend who'd lost his way.

Hearing a floorboard creak a few feet away, Outrun turned to face Deanna, who had left her hiding place to check on the two. She too had a face full of regret and sympathy for her old friend. Tears started to well up in her eyes as the fact that her friend and colleague had tried to kill her was finally allowed to set in. Seeing her like this, Stanley desperately wanted to take her into a hug, but the sounds of far-away sirens caught the two's attention.

"The police are on their way," Outrun observed, looking back at Deanna.

"...You better go," the redhead replied, wiping her eyes.

Outrun nodded, turning away. He hesitated at first, glancing back over his shoulder at her, but finally left in a blur. Inhaling deeply, Deanna tried her best to calm herself for what was to come next: Explaining all of this to the police. As horrible as her night had been thus far, she had the feeling that, somehow, the worst was still yet to come.


	2. Epilogue

Stanley Davidson wiped his forehead as he looked over his work. It had taken all day, but he had finally managed to fix the damage to his suit that had been done the night before. Not only had he needed to patch up the cut to his suit and fix the visor, but apparently, while running maintenance, it had turned out that he may have pushed the Velocitrom engine in his belt a bit too far to pull off the stunt he did.

Stan was about to scan the suit to make sure everything checked out, when he heard a knock at the door. Stammering a quick "U-Uh, just a minute!", he closed up the steel cabinet holding his suit, closed any programs involving it on his computer, and looked out the peephole of his door. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Deanna Malcolm standing out in front of his door, albeit having taken a few steps back to make sure he could see her. She had a bag full of her things slung over her shoulder. Dusting off his lab coat, he opened the door for her.

"...Hey," Stanley greeted, a bit nervously.

Deanna smiled halfheartedly. "That was gonna be my introduction line, actually."

"Oh, sorry," Stan replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "H-How'd you know where my lab was?"

"Well, I knew you were working on a grant from the Golden Rock University, so I made some calls, and...here I am," Malcolm explained, holding her arms together.

Stanley couldn't help but look her over. Despite clearly having not slept much at all, something he could relate to, and wearing dirty jeans and a somewhat baggy t-shirt a size or two too large for her, he thought she looked absolutely gorgeous. But it was her eyes, which looked far more than tired, but sad, that made him do what he did next.

"D-Do you wanna come in, or...?" Stanley asked, stepping aside. He blinked in surprise as Deanna, not even answering, seemed to almost rush in, letting him close the door behind her. "...So, uh-"

"Hubert's had all of his equipment confiscated," Deanna cut in, her eyes downcast. "Professor Pressman has officially declined giving us the grant. The people who offered the warehouse to us for testing our work are kicking us out, meaning I'm basically homeless. There's talk of maybe taking away Hubert's Ph.D. And, oh, did I miss anything? Oh yeah, he's currently sitting in a jail cell for trying to kill me."

Stanley nodded sadly. "Yeah, I-I heard what happened on the news. I wanted to call you, but...well, I wasn't getting an answer on your phone."

"Got cut up, used the battery as a trap," Malcolm replied. "It was a whole thing."

Stanley sighed, kneeling down and taking his redheaded friend in a tight hug. "I am so sorry."

"I know," Deanna whimpered, unconsciously taking in Stan's scent. "God, the whole thing feels like a nightmare."

"Tell me about it," Stan replied, getting a bit of a confused look from Deanna. "...Well, I mean, when you called...I really thought the worst had happened to you. I should've known better. Only someone smarter than you could-"

"Not that smart," Deanna admitted, breaking the hug. "I didn't see it. I knew Hubert had problems, but I couldn't see that he was so mentally unstable. I didn't know that he...thought of me like that."

"Like what?" Stanley asked, just before he realized what she meant. "...Oh."

"Yeah," Malcolm muttered. "Chalk it up to spending your whole life thinking no one would think of me like that."

Despite himself, Stanley smiled a little bit. "...Well, then I guess he still has ONE redeeming virtue."

Deanna glared at Stanley, disbelieving that he actually said that. And yet, actually considering that for a moment, as well as seeing that goofy expression on her friend's face, she couldn't help but let out what was, in Stan's opinion, an adorable snort. The two shared a somewhat awkward laugh before Deanna finally responded, "Yeah, I guess he's not the WORST."

"Oh yeah, attempted murder, misuse of his equipment, betrayal of what we stand for, but at least he knows a great woman when he sees one," Davidson joked.

With a sigh, Deanna went on. "Anyway...I guess I'm just lucky that, of all people, I called you."

Stanley shrugged. "Well, yeah, I mean, when you called, and then got cut off, I called 9-1-1 and-"

"I know you're Outrun," Deanna interjected, causing Stan to sweat. Before he could come up with an excuse, she said, "'Bloody hell'? Kind of gave yourself away. I only know one other person who tries so desperately to keep their thumb over their Australian accent."

Stanley groaned a little, knowing he was caught, and that there was no way to bullshit his way past this woman. "...I really do need to be more careful of that."

"Also, you knew our names, and the whole situation, and you showed up after I called you," Deanna counted off, "and to tell you the truth, the visor REALLY doesn't hide much of your face. I mean, when you're moving around a lot, or when we're in the dark, sure, but when you're completely still and standing in the light coming in through the window-"

"I get it," Stan interrupted, feeling deflated.

"...So, I guess my real question is, was I the only person who went to that college who was just in it for the science and not to make a secret identity for myself?" Malcolm inquired, folding her arms.

"I-I was in it for the science!" Stanley exclaimed defensively. "The secret identity thing didn't happen until WAY later!"

"And when exactly was that?" Deanna demanded.

Stan let out a sigh, walking over to his computer chair. "...Do you remember my friend Eric?"

Deanna blinked, confused. "The one who helped set you up here in the states, right?"

Stanley nodded, using his remote to open the cabinet holding his suit. "He was helping me with Project: Outrun. We were going to make a suit that would allow rescue workers to help people at superspeed. Problem was, the first time I put on the suit, there was an overload, and the energy conduits I built in connected to my nervous system and up to my cerebral cortex, and...and it was like I was running on auto-pilot for a whole day. The suit was responding to my subconscious desire to help people."

"It made you a superhero?" Deanna asked.

"In a nutshell," Stan answered sheepishly. "Eric wanted to test it next. It seemed perfectly reasonable. I mean, we needed to be sure it'd interact with everyone the same. But..."

"Eric's currently in the hospital with a coma, isn't he?" Malcolm pointed out.

"It was my fault," Stanley admitted, his hands over his eyes. "The suit responded to his desire to punish bad people by any means necessary. I tried to stop him, but he wasn't listening, so...so I activated the emergency shut-off on the suit...while he was running."

Deanna's eyes widened in shock as Stan went on. "I damn near killed him. I may HAVE. For all I know, he might never wake up from that coma. And after that, I realized the suit wasn't safe for anyone else, so I officially cancelled the project."

"...When, in actuality, you've been using the suit to help people in secret," Deanna surmised, watching as Davidson slowly nodded. "...Wow. That's...that's a lot to take in."

"Yeah," Stanley admitted. He looked back up at Deanna, expecting to see her backing up to the door, or looking for a phone to call the police. But, to his surprise, she was just standing there, letting him spill his guts, an understanding look on her face. "...I know I'm using the suit for good, but I'm still kind of lying to the scientific community."

"Well, we're all liars about something, Stanley," Deanna replied. "At least your lie is helping people. Like how you saved me last night."

"Yeah, I guess," Stan acknowledged, looking down at the redhead's bag. "I just wish I could help with this."

Deanna sighed hard. "Yeah...well, hopefully, I can bounce back and find someone looking for an assistant on something. Worst case scenario, my parents are offering to fly me back to Ottawa."

Stanley frowned, slumping in his chair. "...This has not been a great reunion, huh?"

"No, it's been the worst," Deanna admitted, smiling sadly. "But...it really HAS been nice seeing you, and catching up, and...and I really missed you."

"I missed you too," Stan replied.

Deanna nodded, glancing back at the door. "...Well, I mean, I guess I should probably-"

In that moment, Stanley knew exactly two things more than anything else: Deanna meant to leave, and he didn't want her to leave. Because if she left, she was going to leave potentially forever. He knew the likelihood of her finding something worthwhile in Golden Rock River was slim to none, especially with her being connected to what had happened with Hubert Manning. As such, he was desperate to say something, anything, to make her stay. And, in that moment, what seemed like the most brilliant idea in the world struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"Work for me!" Stanley exclaimed, bolting up from his chair.

Deanna's eyes nearly bulged out of her head as the faced Stan again, hearing him say those words. "...I beg your pardon?"

Stan's face turned neon red as he realized how rashly he just shouted that out, but went on. "I just, I know I can't pay you very well, and I know I don't have the best lab or equipment in the world, and I know you probably don't want to-"

"Okay," Deanna interrupted, dropping her bag.

Stanley blinked in surprise. "...Okay?"

"Okay," Deanna repeated, her face showing that shatterproof determination that Stanley absolutely adored about her. "I...I want to work for you. I want to help you. You help so many people. You're willing to do THIS for me. Let me try to help YOU."

Stanley let himself slowly smile. Somehow, he'd managed to maneuver the past 24 hours, for all its great highs and disastrous lows, and in the end, he was going to get to work with one of his best friends, who was now in on his secret. He had someone he could talk to and work with about his dual identity and all that he did. And he had someone to bounce ideas back and forth with when it came to new projects.

_Y'know, maybe there're worse things than having to dress up all fancy,_ Davidson concluded in his head as he and Deanna hugged it out.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned for chapter two, which will serve as a short epilogue to the main story.
> 
> Also, if you're aware of the video game Clock Tower's existence and you're not humming music from it during the chase sequence, you're doing it wrong. XD


End file.
